Change
by The Guy Below Me Sucks
Summary: England notices something wrong with America, and he doesn't take it as a good notion. What happens when America has finally succumbed to his insane side? Will contain character deaths.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia!**

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><p>I burst through the forest. The rain pours hard from the black sky- huge, fat drops of rain barraging down on my body. My throat grows dry and parched, and with every breath- it stings. I look straight ahead of me, only to see America, running away.<p>

"America!"

I push forward. I gasp for more air and thrust my arm out. As I get closer and closer, my hand is poised for the grab.

"America!" I call out once more. I see the American shake his head. As I start to grab him- he takes a quick turn to the right- and I grab nothing but the invisible air. I curse under my breath as I take the damned right turn and follow America in pursuit once more.

"Listen to me!" I huffed. "You need to stop! Everyone is scared of you...terrified!" No answer. "What you did these past couple of days—I won't allow it! You scared the entire world, America! And you just keep running away? Coward!"

The American groaned and shook his head.

"You're not going to say anything?" I ask. America tripped over a rock, but caught himself right afterward.

"They had it coming!" He called back, chuckling. "After all these years, they finally had it coming to them. And guess what? They got it!" He pushed onward, and soon I was trudging behind him. I curse once more and pump my legs faster.

"What in the world did they do to deserve this?" I ask. America chuckled again.

"Nothing," he nervously laughs, "absolutely nothing at all."

And this answer leaves me very confused.

"You're insane!" I finally deduced. And at this, America stops right in his tracks. I stop right after, staring at his back.

"Maybe I am.." he starts and turns around. He stares into my own eyes. "and maybe I'm not."

I could have sworn I saw hunger swarm viciously in those eyes.

He starts to walk towards me.

"America?"

He doesn't stop. I star backing away from the madman. "This isn't you, America."

"Oh, it's definitely me." He grins, grabbing something from his bomber jacket pocket. "100%, pure, crazy, insane America." He pauses. "The one you knew ever since I was just a little one."

"You aren't like this..." I mumble. America nods.

"You mean I _wasn't _like this." He corrects me. "I wonder what happened, hm? Maybe I'm some psycho murderer that you happened to be oblivious to? Or maybe I've been suppressing my murderous intent?" he pulls out a very sharp-edged blade and holds it out in front of him. "Should I kill you here, now? Or should I take you to my place and _play _with you for a while?"

I gulped and glared at him and the hand that threatens me with a deadly weapon. "Why?" I ask. He shrugs.

"I dunno." was all he said, and he quickly grabbed me. He put his hand in front of my mouth and prevents any sound from coming out. Once he did this, I felt something slither down my throat.

"What was that?" I wanted to ask, but slowly—_very _slowly—I felt myself start to drift away. My vision had started to blur and I started to feel tired and heavy. America coos from behind, saying things like "Everything will be fine," or "Shh, don't worry."

The last thing I remember is seeing a younger America—no younger than 6. In his left hand, one of my baked scones. His right hand was held out in the air, beckoning me to grab it.

As I reach out to grab it, I am pulled into the dark clutches of unconsciousness.

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><p><strong>Two days prior...<strong>

"This meeting is adjourned."

I I grab my papers and put them order. I place them in my folder and as I get up, I see America walking toward my general direction. I give him a small smile and pat his shoulder.

"Hey, where are you going?"

America frowned and shook his head. "Somewhere important, as of this moment. Why?"

I furrow my brows. America, busy? Never. "Well, I thought we should go out for a drink or two tonight—just like the old days. I figure that since I have nothing to do, and you would have nothing to do, we could just spend some time together."

America smiled and placed his hand on my shoulder. "I'm sorry, dude, but I have really important plans to get to right now."

I watch him walk out the doors of the meeting room and feel dumbfounded. I sigh and turn around, walking towards the other end of the room. Japan is walking in the same direction, and I stop him for a minute.

"Do you know what America has to do that is so 'important'?" I ask him. Japan frowned and shrugged.

"No..I believe I do not. Why, is it bothering you?" He smiles.

"Well..." I trail off mid-sentence. "It's just that America is normally _never _busy. And then all of a sudden, on a day that he definitely shouldn't ever be busy, he has to be busy!" I sigh. "I thought we could spend time together or something. I feel that we should at least get our relationship in order. We've been fighting more than we normally do and I think it's affecting us both." I pause, noticing Japan's knowing stare. I put my hands up in defense. "No! I don't mean it in that way. I mean, more of a friend to friend relationship! Yeah, best friends!" I chuckle nervously, rushing away from the Japanese man. "I have to leave! I'll see you later!"

I burst through the huge set of doors and run to my car. Once I get in, I exhale and shake my head. "What is wrong with me?" I asked myself. I set my folder on the driver's seat and put the keys in the ignition. "I think I'll make some fish and chips when I get home, as a little snack." I smile and pull out of the driveway. Thank Heavens the meeting was here in England, and not all the way in Russia or something.

Once I reach my house, I get out and unlock my house door. I throw the folder on the dinner table and open the fridge to grab the fish. I wash my hands and place the raw fish in the frying pan.

After making my snack, I get a call from America.

"Hello?" I answer. I hear heavy breathing on the other end.

"..England?"

"Yes, America? What's wrong?"

He paused.

"Can you hear me?"

"Yeah," he breathed. There was a low sob on the other end.

"Are you OK? Are you crying?" I ask, leaning forward in my chair. I feel something is wrong.

Terribly wrong.

"I need your help."

"With what?"

He sobbed louder.

"I just killed someone."

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><p><strong>Author's Note: New story, yay~<strong>

**I thought I would give this story a try. I'm not sure if I'll continue this or not, but this is just some "test" to see if I can keep up with the story and whatnot. Please review and tell me what you think so far!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I really hate putting these in every fanfic, but I really want to make a point that I don't own, or will never own, Hetalia or any other goddamn anime/manga. /shot**

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><p>"..What?"<p>

I nearly threw the phone down on the linoleum floor. My hands started to shake uncontrollably, and I felt chills shiver down my spine.

"You heard me," he nearly yelled into the phone. "England, goddammit, help me!" He sobbed. "You can't just leave me hanging. I'm freaking out!"

I felt myself tremble. Why am I suddenly scared of this man I knew for so long? The one that I took care of when he was just a young one? Shouldn't I be over there, comforting him? Saying things like "You didn't mean to, it's all right. Now, let's go home. Here, I'll make some of my scones that you always loved when you were younger!"?

But all I can do is just tremble with immense fear. I find it difficult to speak. "Who..who did you murder?" I stammer.

America sighed. "Please! Just come over here. I don't know what to do! I need you to help me before someone finds me and I'm completely screwed!" America shakily sobbed and tried to calm himself down. "Just please..."

And with that last plea of help, I couldn't help but help the man in distress.

"..All right. Where are you?"

I can't believe I'm doing this.

"...China."

My heart jumped. He said 'China'. Does that mean he killed him? I fear the worst when I agree that I'll be there as soon as I can.

As I jump into my car, I can't help but think of China and his safety. Why would America want to kill China? China has done nothing, and granted at times he can be a little annoying and a smart ass, it wasn't enough incentive to kill him. Has America finally gone insane?

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><p><em>"England!"<em>

_ I jump as I hear the sound of America's voice. I run outside of the house to see him sobbing. As I rush to his side, I pat his back, trying to calm him down. "What happened?" I ask after a while. America still sobbed, holding me tight, pointing at the ground. As I look in the finger's direction, I notice it._

_ He had killed an innocent cat._

_ I look at it with disgust. He had beaten it to death, surely. There's nothing we can do about it now._

_ "Why did you do it?" I ask him nicely. He shook his head. _

_ "I don't know."_

_ And this answer doesn't help me at all. I look back at him, and back at the cat. He still cries silently, probably fearing the worst. "Am I going to jail?" he asked, and he clutched the back of my suit. "I won't go to jail, will I? I didn't mean to!"_

_ And my heart crumbles at his pleading voice. _

_ "No, America. You didn't mean to. You won't go to jail." I coo into his ear. America looked up at me, and he gave the biggest smile I've ever seen him give. _

_ "I won't?" He asked enthusiastically. "You're sure I won't go?"_

_ I nodded. "I'm sure, America." I paused. "Why did you kill it, anyway?"_

_ America paused, kicking the ground as he thought. "I'm not sure. I just..." He trailed off._

_ I look at him with confusion. A feeling wells in the pit of my stomach, and I can't help but think of his well-being in the future. Someone who starts killing innocent animals when they are younger tend to grow up as serial killers. What if this is America's future? _

_ I shook the thought out of my head and pull him into another big hug. "How about this—I'll make some scones and we can get this out of our heads!" I nod, and his eyes grow wide with hunger. "Your favorite scones, hm?"_

_ America jumped with excitement. "Oh, yes!" He smiled and ran into the house, holding his hand out. _

_ "Come on, come on! We don't have all day!"_

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><p>As I near China's house, I can't help but think of that gruesome day when America was a little one. Whether he had killed that poor feline on purpose, I won't ever know. But now that I think back, this all makes sense. Beings that he killed that cat, and perhaps many more, falls into place. He might have been destined to be a serial killer. That makes a lot of sense now...<p>

I shake my head and deny the fact of me ever thinking about it. He won't be a serial murderer. He called me right after he killed China, or whomever, and he claimed he didn't know why he did it. So maybe this was just a one time thing, just like that cat. (Hopefully that was the only cat.) He did the same thing when he killed that cat, so maybe it'll just be like back then...

I sigh as I pull into China's driveway. I hastily get out of the car and look up at the big, Asian styled house. I shake my head and hurry into the house, and the first thing I see is a very bloodied America. He was crouched on the ground, holding the bloody murder weapon in his hand. I look down and I see China facing up on the ground in pool of blood. His eyes were wide open with fear, and I can't help but frown. He was so innocent. He didn't do anything wrong.

America looks up with those childish eyes of his, and he frowns. "England.." He mumbles, holding his arms out. This strikes something in my head. Something like Deja Vu. I can't help but remember that day when he killed that cat, the same look in his eyes, the same pose...

I take this to an advantage and thrust myself into his arms, comforting him as much as I could. He sobbed into my shoulder, pulling me closer to him.

"I don't know why I did it," he sobbed. I could feel the tears forming a pool on my suit, but I kept patting his back. "I just felt... angry."

Angry? I look at him with a befuddled look. "Angry? Why?"

America shook his head. "I don't know."

I frowned. He always says 'I don't know' whenever he does something bad. I really wish he would have a solid answer.

As I held the trembling American in my arms, I stare at the lifeless body of China. What would happen when everyone notices that China isn't around anymore? What would happen to us? Would we live as if nothing had happened? Or would we be found out by everyone else and be sent to prison? Haha, how would that sound in a news report?_ 'Two Very Proud and Successful Nations Commit Murder'_. Yeah, I'm sure that's how it would seem. And in the news report, they'll explain how successful we were in our endeavors to create a surviving country for our inhabitants. And then they'll make us look bad for America killing China and me taking part in the crime. That's how the news reports are in today's world—make us seem like the best around, and then talk about us like we're the scum of the Earth.

"I don't want to go to prison," America mumbled into my suit. Now, this strikes as major Deja Vu. This is exactly like the one time he killed that cat.

Except this time, the cat is China.

And China is a human.

Killing humans is very illegal.

And illegal means punishment.

And of course, punishment leads to conviction.

I pat his back. "Shh, I promise that everything will be fine."

America shakes his head. "I killed a damn human, England! Shit, not just a human—a _nation. _He was part of the Alliance. I just turned against my ally." He pause, giving a shaky sigh. "You know how _horrible _that is?"

Well, he was right there. There is nothing all right about killing an ally, who is specifically part of your team. Killing an ally is betraying the Alliance, which he so obviously did. I pat his back again, petting the back of his head with my other hand.

"We'll get through this together." I mumble. No matter how much I really didn't want to get involved, I have no choice. "This will be our little secret. We don't tell _anybody_, all right?" I look down at him. "Not even Canada. You know how he is. The poor, timid guy."

America nods. "All right. You'll help me with this, right?"

My head turns to the side in confusion. "With what?"

He points at the lifeless Chinese man. "With him."

I blink and look at America. I don't get what he's getting at. His cheeks puffed out in anger and he crossed his arms.

"Hiding the body."

I mentally hit myself upside the head. Of course, that's what he meant. I sigh, looking at the body, and then back at America's pleading eyes.

Those eyes are hard to resist.

I give in, nodding, getting up from the ground. "Yeah, I suppose.."

America's face lit up with relief and he grabbed China's whole body. "You grab a shovel and we'll head out in the back of his house."

I sigh once more and go outside of China's house, looking back and forth to see if anyone was strolling around. I give a slight nod and walk outside nonchalantly, going to the side of China's house to see if there was a shovel. I sigh with relief as I find one, and I go out behind the house and dig a big hole. America was right behind me when I finished, and he threw the body into the hole. I stand there for a minute, silently praying for China's safety up in Heaven. I also apologize for our horrible, intruding behaviour and wish the best for his thriving country. America nudged me in the arm and I finally start putting the dirt back in the hole. I pat it down with the shovel, making sure it doesn't look like it was dug up in the first place. I stand back and put the shovel against the wall of the house, wiping sweat from my brow and observing my work. America pats my back.

"Doesn't look like you dug it up at all." He pauses. "Hopefully no one figures out anything."

We went back inside the house and cleaned up. America had to throw away his whole outfit because it was stained from the blood of the Chinese man. I wash my hands off, getting all the dirt out from underneath my fingernails. I look over at America, now completely naked, except his underwear covering his nether regions. I sigh, glaring at him. He shrugs.

"I don't have another change of clothes." He blushes.

I put a finger up, smiling. "Lucky for you, I have an extra suit in my car."

America groans and shakes his head. "It's like my teenage years all over again." He mumbles under his breath as I head outside for the suit. I hurry back inside and throw it at him, smiling.

"Come on, lad." I push him to the mirror. "You'll look sharp. People like sharp men. It shows that you're sophisticated and neat."

America shakes his head as he put the suit on.

Another bout of Deja Vu strikes me as I remember the first time he put a suit on. I frown, remembering the old days when America wasn't so tainted—just coming into this horrid world.

"It's uncomfortable, but oh well. It works." He shrugs, turning around. "Let's go out for a drink." America smiles. "To make up for earlier, when I turned you down."

I give a nod. "Sure. It'll be a jolly good time."

As we get into the car, I look at the American in the mirror on his side of the car. He was looking outside the window, looking lost in thought. A dark shadow hung over his face, and he kept tapping his fingers on the side of the car. I glare at those dancing fingers, and can't help but think that it wasn't possible to kill with those hands. They were so nice and soft. As if the touch of one horrible item would then forever taint his hands. I wonder if they're hard and dry now, having its first taste of murder?

America notices my stare and turns to me. "Aren't we going?"

I nod. "Sorry, I was lost in thought." I apologize.

America furrows his brows. "I'm sorry for getting you into this."

I shake my head. "It's all right; I care about you. Of course I'm going to help you, no matter how horrible and messed up it is."

America smiles. "Thank you so much, England."

I nod again, starting the car.

I back out of the driveway, and we go to the pub to have a couple of drinks to get our minds off of this situation.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: Yayy~<strong>

**If you can't tell, I tried to add some good ole' humor at the end. /sweatdrop **

**I thought it was a little too..."serious" so humor is always good, isn't it? **

**I don't plan on it being like this all the time though, so... ;A;**

**Anyhow, review and let me know what you think. :D**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: Don't own! *sniff***

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><p><em>"What happened to that promise?"<em>

_ I stare at the American incredulously._

_ "Promise?" I ask him. America crosses his arms._

_ "You know?" He pauses. "Don't play dumb."_

_ I furrow my brows and throw up my arms. My voices raises slightly in tone. "I'm not! What promise?" _

_ America blinks. "Our 'special little secret'. China." He gives little clues. "God dammit," he mutters once he realizes that I really don't have a single clue as to what he's talking about. He paces back and forth, breathing heavily. I notice his hands clenching and un-clenching. That's right—he was known for his anger issues. I suddenly cowered in front of this man. I also want to comfort him; ask him why he's acting like this. He stops in his rapid pacing and looks at me once more._

_ "When I killed China?" He asks, hope mixed in with his rising intonation. I feel like I remember something very similar to it, but I just blink at him once more. America looks into my face for a moment, and then I see the flicker of a shadow cross his face. He looked at the end table next to him, and he eyes the lamp viciously. "Fuck!" He screams, picking up the lamp and throwing it at the wall in a fit of rage. I jumped with horror at his sudden behavior._

_ "America?" I manage to squeak._

_ His blood-thirsty gaze shoots over to me. "Someone obviously knows that I killed China." He pauses. "I've been noticing more and more stares each day by people in town. Not my own people, but other nations visiting the country. The glare at me, as if I'm some monster." He looks outside, watching a flock of birds fly in a V-formation in the clear, blue sky. "I feel like I'm being watched each day. If they truly know, then some nation sent out some Watchers or something like that to keep an eye on my actions."_

_ I put my hands up in defense. "And you think I'm the one who told them?"_

_ America nervously laughs. "Well, of course. You're the only one that knows. How else would someone else know about this?" He glares at me. "Unless you told, which obviously has to be the most logical explanation."_

_ I shake my head. "You're acting like a child, America. Someone must have overheard-"_

_ "I'm acting like a child?" He stops me mid-sentence. "How in the hell am I acting like a fucking child?"_

_ I want to hide. I don't want to look at this beast of a man anymore. He's just lost it. He's a madman. A madman that I had raised so well._

_ He slams his fists on a table. "I don't know what to think anymore." He mumbles. "I thought I could trust you."_

_ I glare at him. "I told you, I didn't tell anyone! Listen to me, you goddamn fool!"_

_ America shakes his head. "I know you told."_

_ "And how are you so sure?"_

_ He stops breathing for a second. "I just told you," he exhales. "you're the only one who knows." He pauses and glances at me once more. He stands up straight, and starts walking to me slowly. "You told."_

_ "No, I didn't!" I scream in fear, and back away slowly. America has officially lost it. _

_ "You told," he repeated. "you told, and now it's time to get rid of you, England." He smiles a mad, mad smile. "I love you, I truly do. You took care of me, and I appreciate it."_

_ I feel hot tears burn in my eyes as the madman approaches with a knife in his hand. I feel myself back into a wall, and I look to the sides of me in desperate fear. _

_ There's no where to go..!_

_ America keeps coming closer.._

_ and closer..._

_ closer.._

_ I shut my eyes in fear._

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><p>"Ahh!"<p>

I shot up and looked around my room. I glance at the picture of the young American that sat at my desk and I started to feel oncoming tears threaten to fall. I shake my head, and get out of my bed. I throw my uniform on and comb my hair. As I walk into the living room, I turn the TV on to to the news channel and turn it up to hear the news while I make breakfast.

"_In today's news, a nation has come up missing..."_

I stop as I took out some eggs. I put them down gently and run to the living room to watch the news report.

_"...China, who has mysteriously disappeared off of the map, is no where to be seen."_

I gulp worriedly. I suddenly felt sick to my stomach.

"_No one is sure as to what had happened to the bustling, successful nation, but geographers are looking into the matter..."_

I forget about my breakfast. I see myself run outside to my car, and hurriedly thrust the keys into the ignition. I back out of the driveway and sped down the road, heading to America's house.

"America!" I call and start to bang on the door. "America!" I repeat, banging louder. I grow worried, and I look into his garage—only to see no car. I curse under my breath and get in my car again, having no other choice but to drive home and see if America turns up sometime soon.

As I start to back out of his driveway, I receive a call. I dash for my phone, praying that it be America. I look at the caller ID—but it's not America.

It's Russia.

I hold my breath. Russia cares deeply for China. He's going to bring something up...

I answer, knowing I can't back out and make myself seem like a coward.

"Uh, hello?" I mumble. Russia's cheery voice couldn't be heard. Instead, it was replaced with anger.

"China is missing." He keeps his cool, though.

I try to keep myself calm as best as I can, but I find it really difficult. "It seems so. I just saw the news report not too long ago." I pause. "I can't believe it, though."

Russia sighs heavily on the other end. "No one has reason to kill China." He said in his heavy Russian accent. Over the years, I have grown accustomed to it, but the accent itself is morbid. I can feel his demented aura just from talking to him. "I won't be easy on the person who did it." His breathing grew heavy. "No one escapes from the wrath of Russia..."

I grow really worried, now. Russia is a strong bugger, and has a lot of stamina at that. If he finds out that America and I were involved, he'd have no problem taking us out. I realize that I am seriously screwed, but I keep my calm.

"I understand," I mumble. Somehow, Russia's threat bothered me entirely. I feel something bad is bound to happen. "Well, I must get going. I'm heading home right now."

"Oh," Russia cheerfully said. I furrow my brows and wonder exactly how he can get his cheerful demeanor back after talking about such a grave subject. "alright. Be careful. The murderer can be anywhere..."

And he hangs up.

I sigh with relief and set the cell phone down, keeping a steady eye on the road ahead of me. I drive home, feeling very hungry.

"I skipped out on breakfast while in a frenzy," I mumble to myself, trying to ignore the grumbling of my stomach. "I should really be more attentive to my body, rather than head to America's house when I know he'll be fine..." I paused. "Though, I can't help but feel worried for the man. Still, where in blood hell could he have gone?"

I think to myself aloud. I drop the subject and finally reach home, locking the doors to my car and running inside of the house. The TV was still on, and it seems they have gone onto a completely different subject very irrelevant to China. I sigh, cracking the eggs I left on the counter onto the pan, frying them. I smile at the smell of the eggs, and my stomach growls at me some more. I chuckle, patting it.

My phone rang once more. I sigh, turning the heat off of the stove and reaching for my phone.

It says America.

My heart pounds as I answer it quickly.

"America!"

He gasps at the other end. "...What?"

I furrow my brows. "Where in the world were you?"

"...The store?"

I pause. "Huh?"

"I was at the store." He chuckled. "You came to my house?"

I grew embarrassed. Why am I so worried about him? "Well, you saw the news report, right?"

He pauses. "I heard it on the radio as I was driving." He paused. "Russia called me."

I sigh. "He called me too. He must be calling everyone."

America breathed heavily. "I really wish I didn't do that. It's causing a controversy all over the world." He pauses. "It seems like everything will be restless until they find out the culprit."

I nod. "It seems so. However, what are you going to do about it? They're going to find out soon enough, and it's not like we have an alibi to cover ourselves up."

America chuckles. "I suppose you're right. We'll have nothing else to do but to surrender. It's our fault, anyhow." He stops. "Well, my fault. I brought you into it all, anyway."

I frown. "Well, all we can do is hope." I pause. "I don't think we'll get in trouble, as long as we shut our mouths and don't reveal anything."

America doesn't answer. I look at the phone to see if he hung up, but he didn't.

"America?"

"I'm scared."

I freeze. It's only normal for him to be scared like that. But my heart shattered at those words. He didn't mean to kill China, it was obvious. But they don't take that as a reason in the real world. If we're found out, we both surely go to prison.

"I know." I pause. "I am too."

I hear a heavy sigh on the other end. "But you didn't kill him."

That was true. "Well, yeah, but..."

"But nothing." He says forcefully. "If anything, I'm the one who should be sent to prison—not both of us. What difference would it make if you were there? You only assisted—you weren't the one who killed China with your own hands. Hearing him scream in surprise and pain like that made me realize what I did—and I know what I did shouldn't be taken lightly. I'm a murderer. It's who I am, and I accept that. Hell, I still get intentions even though I don't want to do it again."

I grow scared again. "You have intentions?"

America chuckled. "Yeah. Isn't that the messed up part? I'm scared, but there was the small feeling of excitement mixed in during the time. And, looking back, I feel like I want to experience that excitement once more."

His words worry me. Severely. He has a problem. If he wants to go back to it, then there is something definitely wrong with him. I thought he wouldn't ever, NEVER, go back to it. The look on his face-

"England?"

I jump. "Huh?"

"You weren't talking there for a while." He paused. "Are you scared of me now?"

I gasp. I hold back tears as I stare at the wall in front of me. What to say?

"No." I lied.

"I'm not scared of you at all."

* * *

><p>"As all of you have found out," Russia started, "China has come up missing. What's even worse—he has completely disappeared off of the map. Off the face of the Earth..." he mumbles.<p>

The tension in the room was heavy. I sunk in my chair, trying to keep a poker face. I feel so damn horrible. China and Russia were close—and now Russia has found out that his lover was taken away from him. Whether he knows China is dead or not is a mystery to me, but Russia is a man not to be taken as "kind".

He slams his fists on the table. I jump in fear, and I look at America from across the room. He holds a solemn look in his face, appearing sorry for all that had happened. I frown, wanting to hug him. But I refrain from doing so, and listen in on the Meeting.

"...no clue of figuring out who the culprit is, so we'll take different approaches. One way to figure this out is to see if everyone has a legit alibi—a story that they can absolutely prove that was taking place at the time of China's kidnapping." He pauses. "Or worse, his murder."

Everyone gasps. I restrain from rolling my eyes at the sudden cliched moment, and think to myself. A legit alibi, huh? This was going to be a tough one. Whatever I say has to go to America's liking, as well. I mentally slap myself as I regret for getting emotional and rushing to help the distressed nation.

"I'll interview each of you separately." Russia continues. "Regardless if this takes time out of my work, I will find out who committed this. No one will get let off lightly. The culprits will suffer the consequences—perhaps even worse than those consequences themselves." There was the hint of a smirk on his face as sits down in his chair. "Would anyone like to add to the situation?"

Crickets could be heard chirping as no one spoke up about the situation. Russia smiles, nodding.

"This meeting is adjourned, if there are no other questions or additions."

Everyone gets up.

"Oh!" He calls. Everyone stops in their tracks.

"Interviewing will be starting tomorrow." He pauses, "so, everyone better get their alibi's straight. One little interesting 'mistake' will be taken to my interest, and those who screw up will find it difficult to get themselves out of the matter."

"That is all."

Everyone rushed out of the room hurriedly.

* * *

><p>"Well, that's it." I start as I jump in the car. "I'm heading home and sleeping for the rest of the day. This whole day has been a very tiring one." I sigh. I insert the keys into the ignition and start the car, driving out of the driveway of the Meeting Building. I start to think aloud. "Should I take a bath? Or a shower? I probably should...but I really don't feel like it."<p>

On the way home, that is all I thought about.

But I just headed straight to bed with exhaustion. I knew that if I bathed or showered, I would end up falling asleep in the middle and drown myself or something even worse.

I rustle back in forth in the middle of my sleep. I feel something wrong as I wake up, rubbing my eyes. I notice the time on the clock and sigh heavily. "Damn it, it's not even the time to wake up."

My phone starts to ring, and I jump. "Who could be calling at this hour?" I glance at the caller ID and chuckle. "That damn America, he's probably calling me to tell me how scared he is. Though, I wished he told me before we left the meeting..." I flip open the top of the cell phone and press the 'CALL' button, answering the call. "Hello?"

There was a shallow sigh at the end. "England, you answered."

"Yeah...?" I ask.

"I didn't think you would answer this late at night—or rather, the morning."

I shrug. "Well, I wasn't able to sleep anyhow." I pause. "Are you OK? You sound rather out of breath."

America gasps. "It seems so."

There was an awkward silence. I hear a chuckle on the other end.

"America?" I get a bad feeling. Please, don't tell me he...

"I did it." He laughed like a madman. That crazy laugh pierced my ears as I held the phone away. "I did it!" He exclaims now, losing himself in a frenzy of mad laughter. "Again!"

I knew that the bad feeling wasn't just a feeling that was there. America had murdered another one. Probably Russia, that way he wouldn't be caught red-handed without an alibi. Somehow, I'm not as worried as I was—most likely because Russia would be eliminated now, and we would have nothing to worry about because no one else is as scary as Russia.

"Who was it?" I find myself asking, fearing the worst.

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

I hold my breath. "It's Russia, isn't it?"

America chuckles. "You couldn't be even more wrong."

I freeze. I feel cold chills. "Then...?"

America chuckles some more.

"One of the Vargas' brothers." He pauses. He lets out a heavy sigh as he says, "...Italy."

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><p><strong>Author's Note: I apologize sooo soo much for late update! *sigh* Things have been difficult lately, and with school starting again from Spring Break and the recent issue with my family-I just haven't done anything. That is why I made this chapter especially longer than normal.<strong>

**Anyhow, I must go. Review, please! Thanks for reading!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: Don't own!**

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><p>Fuck! He's gone too far this time!<p>

"I-Italy?" I hear myself stammer. I curse myself for appearing weak. America snorts on the other end.

"Mhm. You heard me."

I feel a different air about him now. As if a change had occurred within him since the last time we met. Has he been planning this all along?

"So, what do you want me to do about it?" I sigh, closing my eyes.

America chuckles. "It's not that difficult to figure out."

"I really don't want to help you with this-"

"You said you would help me!" He yells into the phone. I flinch as I pull the phone away from my ear. "Regardless, you said you would help me with whatever it is that I needed! _Even _if it was murder!"

I sigh and nod to myself. He was right, there. I had promised to help with whatever he wanted. How in bloody hell do I get myself stuck in these kinds of situations? Curse my kind heart.

"Goddammit, America." I start. "I figured you would stop after the first murder. What made you continue?"

"I dunno," he mumbles, "it felt great the first time around, so why not do it again a second time?"

Was all of his emotions and feelings just a sham? I can't help but wonder that as I hear his last comment. It would make sense, anyhow. America was really good at lying...especially when he was younger. I feel myself give in to the insane American. I shake my head and jump out of bed, locating a dirty outfit in the corner of the room. "Fine, America. I may seem like your little Bitch, but this is the last time I'm going to do anything like this for you. It's not right."

I hear America squeal with delight. Mad delight. "Great. Meet me at Italy's place, and make it quick."

I hang up the phone and throw it in the corner of the room. Why do I give in so easily? America is doing horrible things, and yet I follow his orders like I'm his subordinate.

I realize something now.

I _am_ his little Bitch. There's no denying it.

It sincerely pisses me off. But, I cannot find the strength to push the man away and let him do his own things. Though, I hope I finally put my foot down and he listened, because I sure won't do this again. Not any time soon, anyhow.

I pull a dirty outfit on and rush to my car, starting it.

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><p>I make it to North Italy's house. It's amazing that he wasn't with Germany at the time. Another weird thing is that Romano is no where around, either. Maybe he is with Spain? I shrug as I enter the house, looking at America sitting in a chair around the table. He seems to be enjoying a cup of coffee. A chill shivers down my spine as he nonchalantly drinks that disgusting coffee. As if nothing had ever happened in the first place.<p>

"What in bloody hell are you doing?"

America jumps and turns around, smiling. "Woah. You made it sooner than I thought you would. Kudos to you!" He puts his thumb up, chuckling. "Go ahead and bury this body, too. We can't do anything else with it, otherwise they all may find out what has been going on."

I stare incredulously at the madman. "What in Heaven's name is your problem?"

America blinks.

"You expect me to do it all?" I pause. "By myself?"

America nods, taking a drink of his coffee at the same time. "Why not?" He says afterward. "I helped the first time around. I figure, since this is your 'last' time, you can do it all by yourself."

I shake my head and groan with disgust as I walk to the limp body of Italy. The poor man, he didn't do anything at all to deserve this. If anything, Romano would have been better off to die than his innocent brother. And, I don't mean that by anything. But, it probably would have been a bit better than to see this sweet, oblivious Italian die. I shake my head and pick the body up by the arms. He's not as heavy as I thought he would be.

I start to drag him to the back door, slowly. As I do this, I hear the front door slam open.

"Fratello!" A familiar voice calls. "I brought some pasta! Germany said you weren't at his place, so..."

At a time like this, He has to come here.

He stops in his tracks. Right in the middle of the walkway. He notices America drinking coffee at the table. America turns around, gasps, and then smiles sweetly.

"Hey!" He exclaims. "You just made it in the time!"

Romano's eyes dart to me in the far end of the room, dragging Italy's lifeless body. I feel like I want to cry. I notice his face scrunching up in disgust. His eyes start to water heavily. I turn my head away.

"What the fuck is going on?" He asks, his voice cracking as he speaks. "What did you do to Fratello?"

America chuckles. "Isn't it that obvious?"

Romano lets the tears fall. "But..."

He stays silent for a while. He throws the pan of pasta he had cradling in his arms at America. America jumps and hisses in pain. "That pan was still hot, you bitch!"

Romano sobs and runs to me, grabbing Italy's body. I don't stop him. I look over and notice America holding his burnt arm, still hissing with pain. He runs to the sink and sprays cold water on it. The coffee had spilled over the table, and there was a pile of steaming pasta on the ground. Romano yells at Italy's dead body. "Wake up, god dammit! You aren't _that _weak to leave me like this!" He shakes it violently some more. I place my arm on his shoulder and shake my head.

"He's gone." I pause. "I'm sorry."

Romano stops and starts to cry some more. "Why the hell do you care?"

I stop for a moment. Why do I care? What kind of question is that? I glare at the now aggressive Italian. "Because," I start.

"Because I had nothing to do with this."

Romano looks confused for a moment. I try to give him a reassuring smile, but given the grave situation, I can't. It's more like a grimace. Romano nods slowly. "And I can believe you?"

"Trust me." I nod.

Romano nods slowly once more and looks back at his dead brother. "Does this mean America was the one who killed China, too?"

"Unfortunately, yes." I sigh heavily. "He was the one who killed him."

Romano gasps. I see a heavy figure behind him, and before I can even yell at Romano to move, a loud _twang!_ sound filled the air. Romano's body drops to the ground in a heap, on top of Italy. I look at the sight closely, noticing their position and their faces.

They looked so peaceful together.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: *dies* What am I doing? ;A;<strong>

**So sorry for late update, AGAIN. I have been busy lately, and I have been studying for a very important state test coming up here. /shot**

**Anyhow, please review and let me know what you think! If you would like, throw out some ideas/suggestions. I'll seriously consider them being a part of the story. I'll also give credit to you~**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: Do not own!**

**I also want to warn that there is a lot of angst in this chapter. Major depression and rage. ;A;**

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><p>My head shoots up at the panting American in front of me. With a steaming pan in his hand, he glared with hatred at the now dead Romano. He held his injured arm close to his body, a faint welt now starting to grow. It looked as if it was throbbing. America gripped the handle of the pan tightly, holding back groans of pain.<p>

As I stared at this man, I couldn't see America. He wasn't America, no more. What he was is a crazy, insane, madman who has become cold and heartless. I saw a beast within this madman, and yet I couldn't help but feel sorry for the guy. And I stand here, wondering why in God's name I would still love this man? I should feel pain and contempt towards this man. I trusted him, and he abused that trust so he could commit murder. He did it because he knew I wouldn't tell anyone.

Because I trust him. And I still do trust him. But, as I stand here, I can feel the real me slipping away. I should be calling the police by now. I should be reporting America in and have justice served. Killing a country is one of the most horrible crimes there ever is. And killing a country leaves a whole geographical and historical disruption throughout the passing of time.

And I let him do it.

"Why didn't you kill him?" America screamed, pointing the still hot pan towards my face. "You saw him throw this fucking pan at me, and you talk to him as if nothing had happened in the first place! You bastard, you're lucky I won't kill you yet!" He pauses, hissing in pain. "Goddamn it, this fucking welt!"

I freeze. He said 'yet'. Does this mean he intended to kill me once he had this murder thing down? But I thought he needed my assistance...Is he planning to get rid of me now because I won't help him dispose of the bodies?

"Are you just going to stand there with that stupid ass look on your face?" America growled. "Get rid of the bodies. And hide them good. After that, clean yourself up and get out of my sight. I don't even know why I asked for your help in the first place. You just ended up screwing me over in the end." He walked away, setting the pan on the stove. He ran some more cold water over the welt. "Can't fucking believe it..." he mumbled to himself. I stared at him. I didn't know what to do. I felt lost. Confused. I don't know whether I should hide the bodies, or leave and let America do it himself. I don't know what to think of him anymore. This was a whole new side of him that I have never seen. I feel like I should at least help him this last time, but yet I feel that I should turn him in.

I stood there, thinking. I was planted at the spot. I can't move. It's as if my legs are paralyzed. My eyes narrow at America. His head quickly turns towards me, and he scowls. "The hell is your problem? I said hide the bodies. Then leave. I'm tired of seeing your face. You said this is your last time, so why don't you do it already and just leave?"

Why don't I just leave? I ask myself, but I don't get an answer. I start to move my arms and pick up Romano's body. I don't want to see him anymore. I'm scared. He has intentions of killing me in the future. I just want to leave and get away, before he can do anything. I drag the body to the back door. I open the door and bring the body downstairs, out into the darkness. The cold air rushed against my clothed body, but it was still freezing. My teeth start to chatter as I find a nearby shovel and dig up a hole. Once it's deep enough, I throw the lifeless body in.

I pause. I won't dig another hole. I'll just bury them both together.

So they'll both be together, forever.

* * *

><p>I slam the door to my house and lock it. I lean my back against the door and slide down slowly, my hands covering my head. My head rests between my legs, and I don't know what to do. I start to feel the tears flow from my eyes, the dam finally breaking. How many times have I cried this past week? I've lost count. I've never been this emotional in my entire life. But I feel as if I've lost everything. America was the person who kept me going, no matter how degrading and obnoxious he was. I took care of him, and we had this trust that no one could possibly ever have. We knew things about each other that nobody else knew.<p>

He's a completely different person now.

I pull the cell phone out of my pocket. I look at it, thinking for a moment. I open the phone, and press the 9 key. I take a deep breath. I press the 1 key. And, with a trembling finger, press the 1 key once more. I look at the three digit number on the screen of the phone, and debate whether I should call the police or not. It would only be the right thing. And I should probably do it.

So I press the SEND key.

It rings. And rings. And rings-

"_Hello, this is 911. What is your emergency?"_

My eyes open wide with fear and I hurriedly press the END key. I throw the phone all the way across the room and hide my head between my knees. I wail, shaking my head.

"What do I do?" I sob aloud, asking no one in particular. This was crazy. Everything was crazy. Screwed up. And I'm allowing it to happen. I'm a goddamn nation, for Christ's sake! Why am I not doing anything to resolve it? I know it's wrong, and I'm not doing a damn thing.

I feel myself start to drift away with heavy sleep. I didn't realize I was that tired, and the emotional stress has gotten to me.

My eyes flutter as I try to keep them open. But, it's fruitless because I _know _can't stay awake.

I fall asleep in front of the door, dreaming about the once small America that I remembered.

* * *

><p><em>Bzzzt...Bzzzzt...<em>

_ Bzzzztt..._

My eyes open. What the hell is that sound?

_Bzzzt...Bzzztt..._

I get up from the floor, grunting with pain because of the uncomfortable position. "Where the hell did it go...?" I mumble, still sleepy. I yawn as I walk across the room to the buzzing cell phone. I groan and pick it up, wondering who would be texting me this early. I look at the time and realize that it's 10 in the morning. Not early at all. I must have slept really good.

I open the phone and look at the contact. I sigh as it reads 'America'. What in bloody hell does he want now?

_"Hey," _it starts. "_I apologize for yesterday. I was a little more harsh than I realized. You didn't do anything wrong, and I shouldn't be acting like this." _I exhale deeply. At least he understands. I continue on. "_But I want to let you know something._

_ "You're next."_

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><p>"Ahh!"<p>

My head shot up, and I immediately recoiled with pain. "Fuck!" I scream, holding my head in my hands. I turn around and realized that it was the door that I hit. I had forgotten that I fell asleep here. I groan and get up, rubbing the back of my head. I hear the _Bzzt _sound, suddenly remembering that nightmare. I approach the vibrating phone cautiously, praying that the message isn't anything like it was in the nightmare. I pick it up and open the cover. It reads 'America'.

I sigh, opening the text.

"_Would you like to help me one more time?" _It said. I gasp. Did he really...?

I furiously reply, "_Who did you kill this time, America?" _I send it and sit down in the recliner, waiting for a reply.

Not too long later, I got a reply. It read, "_Well, if I tell you, you won't help me." _So he did kill someone else. There's still more, "_But, I guess I'll tell you anyway. If you don't help, I can do it all myself—no difference._

_ "It's Russia."_

I drop the phone on the ground.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: shot**

**Blargh. I don't even know anymore. It just gets even more insane each chapter. I don't know how I'm even capable of writing these XDD**

**Leave a review and lemme know what you think. ;A; **


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: You know the drill.**

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><p>The horrid text stared back at my face as I gasp in silent horror. What the fuck. He's gone too far, for sure this time. How the hell did he manage to kill Russia? Russia isn't a weakling. He doesn't lose, and America somehow finished him? He had to have put up a great fight, so America should have at least walked out with several injuries.<p>

My heart beats furiously. I don't know what to do. I feel like I should go chase him. Take him down. Finish this once and for all. But do I have the guts? Hell fucking no. I cringe with fear in his presence. To America, I'm just some small coward with no backbone.

Well..I suppose that's true.

But that's not the point.

America needs to be taken down. He's hurting everyone. It hasn't even been a day and he's already killed three people within that time frame. He's getting even more dangerous by the minute.

I pick up the phone. I noticed that I have received another text while I was ranting on and on in my thoughts. It was from America.

_"Did I scare you off, now?"_

I scowl at the text. _"What the hell do you think?" _I reply. "_I don't know what your problem is, but I don't care anymore. You know what? Just stop talking to me. I don't want to be involved anymore. Fuck off, and continue with your own thing. I won't tell anyone about your little problem, but if it keeps getting worse, I _will _do something about it."_

I sigh and send the long text. I furiously slam the phone onto the dining table and get something out to eat. I grimace at the obnoxious grumbling from my stomach.

I feel left at a crossroad. Left or right? Tell or watch? I ask myself whether I should be the responsible one and seriously report him in. I feel like I'm running around in circles—running around but getting to nowhere. America is crazy, no doubt about it. If he is arrested, he'll probably be let off easy with an insanity plea. They'll throw him in a crazy house. Whether that would be a good thing or not, I won't know, but he'd be in the place he should be.

I feel as if my emotions are just being played with. First, he trusts me with this horrid secret. And then, because of that trust, I trust him. But then he uses that advantage to order me around. And after that, I yell at him for just using me. He apologizes.

Wash, rinse, repeat.

So sickening.

That probably explains why women go back to their abusive lovers. Because they "love" them so much that they just can't let them go.

I'm starting to think that I'm the woman and America is just the abusive figure. Which is probably true.

I grit my teeth as I stir the sausage in the pan. This is just pissing me off more and more. I should just drop it. Pretend as if nothing had ever happened, and live a normal fucking life.

Like I have been before all of this nonsense happened.

_Bzzt..._

I turn the stove off, hastily grabbing my phone. Text from America.

_"Ooh, fending yourself now, aren't you? Whatever you say. You helped me out enough already. I can do it all by myself now, so you don't have to worry. But, I can't guarantee who will or won't be next._

_ "That mystery is all up to you to figure out. _

_ "And if you turn me in, I will kill you before they can even get their hands on me. Just remember that."_

I gulped. Such a fierce one. He always has been, though.

"_Fuck you." _is all I reply with.

I'll do whatever I want.

But that may or may not happen.

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><p>"This World Meeting is now in session," America started. He chuckles and starts right into the matters. "The murders have gotten worse. What I say we do is build this awesome superhero and have him beat the living shit out of the culprit!" He sticks his thumb up. "It's the best thing we can do anyway, given that we don't know who the hell it is."<p>

I grimace and shake my head. "Your ideas have always been stupid, America. We really need to be serious about this and get down to who actually committed them." I pause, noticing a shadow cross the American's face. "I mean, the murderer has already kill _four _people. That's a hell of a lot within such a small time frame like 2 weeks."

France, who is sitting next to me, nodded grimly. "He's right, America. It's getting worse as time goes on. He's already killed four flourishing nations. Now, they're disappeared off of the map, along with the inhabitants. Not to mention the immigrants disappearing as well." He frowns. "We've lost three races already. Russians, Chinese, and Italians are no where to be seen."

Sweden pipes up. "And if it keeps going on, Lord knows what will happen to the population? We've lost millions already, and possibly more if he keeps at it."

America was kept silent this whole time, reflecting on the words of the other nations. They've never had such a serious meeting like this one before. He plops down on his chair and looks at me. He then glances at everyone else in the room. He sighs heavily. "I'm not sure what to do, then. We have no way to figure out who it is, other than questioning everyone else in here. But Russia did that already, and we haven't found anything out. Hell, it could be anyone. Even the inhabitants. They may not know that we're nations, but they sure know what they hell they're doing if they have gotten this far."

I grimace at his little speech. He knows how to keep it serious, even though he was the one who did it. I just want to blurt out that he did it, right here. I'd even bring myself out that I hid three of the four bodies, just to put in extra proof. But, that wouldn't get us anywhere. I need to report it to the right people. And, sure, the enforcements may be dumb, but at least they know how to prosecute someone to justice.

It was silent. No one spoke. No one wanted to speak. They were stumped. They have no clue who did it, or why they did it. America sighs, sitting in his chair, his back leaned against the chair with his feet propped on the table. I wanted to smack him for showing such rude manners, but I let it be. No more interaction, I promised. Only if it were such manners as this murder case. Someone stood up at the end of the room. The chair scraped against the ground, a shrill noise filling the air. Everyone turns to look at who it was.

Germany slammed his hands on the table.

"We can't just sit here idly and ponder over it!" He screamed. "Try and think of this like the smart nations you are!" He stands up straight. "You all are nations. You have power. With that power, you can do anything you want. Part of being a nation is helping your fellow nations. In this case, we have to _find _the person who is committing all of these murders." He looks at us. "We're sitting ducks. Sure, we have no damn clue who the murderer is, but we're not even trying! We just sit in fear, wondering who is next? You all stay locked up in your houses, wondering if the murderer will ever be caught. Some of us want him to be brought to justice." He pauses, trying to hold back a sob. "He's killed a lot of important people. Even Italy," he muttered. "and look at where we are. We're acting like...like a big group of idiots!" He pushes his chair in and stands behind it. "I don't know about you all, but I'm committing myself to this investigation. Screw what all of you think. I'm risking my life for those who have died and for those who are in danger. I may not seem like a nice nation, but at least I have a heart and the will to end this once and for all.

"So, for those of you who want, you can stand with me and we can figure out who is doing all of this. For those of you who don't, well.." he pauses, thinking. "I'll see how it is. I'm just tired of sitting back here and watching everything on speculation. You all freak out about this, and you don't do anything to contribute, so you can all fuck yourself and do whatever the hell you all want. If you want to help me, talk to me. I'll be glad to have a crew figure out this damn mystery."

He walks out of the room without the Meeting being dismissed. I stare at the back of that man.

I just wanted to hug that big bugger. A goddamn tight bear hug. He deserves it for standing up. He's finally brought us all into the light. Giving us a chance to bring down America. And, even though I wanted to tell him that it was all America, I just couldn't bring myself to do it.

I am such a pussy.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: Herpaderp.<strong>

**Next chapter~ Lemme know what you think by leaving a review. Your comments/thoughts are well appreciated and for that, I thank you.**

**I hope you all enjoyed~**


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia!**

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><p>After the Meeting, I called Germany.<p>

"_'Alo?" _He answers.

"Germany?" I ask into the phone. "About the Meeting..."

Germany chuckles. "_You aren't the only one._"

I smile, feeling better. "All right. I just really want to help. The..murderer..." I pause, sighing. I hear Germany breathe heavily on the other end.

"_I understand, completely._" was all he said. We sat in silence for a while.

During that long while, I debated whether to speak up or not.

And, I decided that I probably should.

"Listen," I start. Germany mumbles a 'Hm?' on the other end, and I continue. "The murderer..."

"_What about the bastard_?" He asks.

I take a deep breath. I know this isn't going to end well. America will find out that I told. He'll kill me.

"I know who the murderer is." I spit out fast. Germany's breath hitches.

"_...What?_" He asks incredulously.

My heart starts to pound. I had promised to keep this huge secret to myself. What am I doing?

"I know who the murderer is," I repeat. I gulp, listening to Germany's now heavy breathing.

"_You do._.?" He asks, still unsure. I sigh.

"I do."

"_Who is it?_"

I breathe. "America," I exhale.

And there was silence.

Long, utter silence.

At this point, I thought he had dropped the phone out of shock, but I heard him breathe on the other end.

"_What...?_"

I frown, hearing the fear and sadness in his voice. I suddenly hated myself for some reason.

I feel the conflicting emotions run throughout my body. I feel glad that I told, but at the same time, I regret it. I'm happy that I finally grew a pair of balls and withdrew my fear, but I can feel myself growing into yet another pussy. I feel accomplished, but at the same time—uneventful. Why am I even feeling this way?

"_How do you know?_" He asked. I didn't want to tell him.

"I..." I started, "...hid the bodies."

I hear Germany choke on the other end. After he caught his breath, he spoke up, "_You did what?_"

I close my eyes. "That's why I want to help. I only hid China's and the Italy brothers' body, but I just want to end it all. I'm kicking myself for even helping Him."

"_But this whole damn time, you didn't even tell anyone?"_

I wince. "Trust me, I wanted to!" I yell into the phone. "I..really wanted to!" I hold back sobs. "You don't know how much it took me to even tell you! I'm afraid of the Madman, Germany! He threatened to kill me if I told anyone! And look what I did." I chuckle. "I _told._ So if America finds out, I'm the next one. You know how difficult it is to keep that in the back of your mind while you just so desperately want to tell anyway?"

_"Trust me,_" He starts, sighing. "_I understand how you feel-"_

"Fuck you!" I scream. "You have no idea. You didn't help hide the bodies against your will. You didn't take care of a murderer when he was younger, thinking he would be the best kid in the entire world! You weren't threatened if you told someone that your closest friend was a murderer!"

Germany sighed. _"I know, I understand."_ He pauses. "_Fine. We'll get through this together. __Now that we know who the culprit is, we can corner him and bring him to justice. We're not that far. We're close to winning. Everyone can rest in peace._"

I gasp. We are that close, aren't we? Now we just have to act quickly before he takes another life. I smile to myself. It'll be depressing to see him be hauled off like that, but he deserves it.

"All right." I chuckle. "How are we doing this?"

_"Well," _Germany starts. "_everyone gets together for World Meetings, ja? We'll call a World Meeting and when America arrives, have the enforcements arrest him. I mean, that's all we can really do in our power."_

I nod. "All right. Sounds great. Tomorrow, then?"

_"Ja. I'll call you and let you know when."_

"All right." I repeat. "See you then."

_"See you."_

We hang up our phones.

This sounds like it's going to be difficult. America is a tricky bastard. Whatever he gets himself into, he can get himself out easily. We'll need solid evidence. I'll have to testify and possibly suffer some consequences myself. But it would all be worth it.

To see that madman in jail and out of the world's way would be a great pleasure to me.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: Meh. Just a little phone conversation. To say, in the least, I'm just trying to hurry this story up. ;A; It's almost to the end, though, so about a couple of chapters maybe? That's what I'm shooting for, anyhow. So we'll just see. I apologize for the shortness of this chapter, but I've been really busy lately so I can't do much anymore. I'm trying to post a lot more than what I have been, so hopefully that gets better as well. I hate keeping everyone who reads this on edge and whatnot. D:<strong>

**Later~**


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: Don't own! Story is mine but the characters and Hetalia are not!**

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><p>Today is the day our plan goes into act. Just as Germany promised, a World Meeting was called to talk about "global warming". It was a brilliant and genius plan that was surely to end America's horrid ways. There was absolutely no way that this plan could fail. Every country must attend the meetings, so if America does somehow know that we're capturing him, it's not like he can just skip out on the meeting. So, of course we have him cornered.<p>

"Is everyone accounted for?" Germany asked. He looked around, noticing every seat was filled except for those that have been murdered. Germany nodded, rustling papers around. "Our main priority for this meeting is to go over the global warming cases. As all of you know, ice caps have been melting in places where they shouldn't. Now, I'm sure you all realize that we cannot prevent this action caused by the almighty Mother Nature herself, but there should be some way we can prevent..."

I look at America's boring gaze. He was leaning against the table, his head resting on his hand, glaring into the German's stern face. His expression was completely empty—no emotion present other than extreme boredom. He sits back, tapping a beat with his pencil on the table. Nobody noticed the irritating sound as they listen in onto Germany's rant about saving Artic areas from global warming. I begin to feel bored as well, wondering when the enforcements are going to intrude.

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><p>About an hour or so later, our plan goes into play.<p>

Windows shatter, the pieces of glass falling onto the ground. Enforcement men jump through the windows with precaution and some even burst in through the main doors of the room, pulling out their guns and aiming them directly at America. Looks of horror were apparent on the countries' faces. Some cowered with fear, covering their heads to defend themselves. The stronger ones kept a poker face and tried to appear tough. However, deep down, everyone was scared.

America, however, was indifferent. He chuckled. "This is a nice show. Why are the guns pointed at me, hm?" He claps, smiling. "This is fun. Are you all here to give us a show? I love a good show."

My brows furrow at America's calm demeanor. "America?"

His gaze darts toward me. "Yes, England?"

I grow speechless. He knows I was part of this, but he hasn't done anything to escape? He was obviously prepared for this.

"Put your hands up, now!" One of the enforcements exclaimed. The guns clicked, ready to shoot at any given time if needed.

"What's happening?" France asked, frowning. "Why is America being ordered to..." France drifted off in thought, suddenly realizing what was all happening now. "Wait a minute," He started.

America chuckled. He got up from the chair, his hands up to show that he is unarmed. "I don't understand what this is all about, but you are all mistaken. I haven't done anything."

Germany snorted. "Is that so?"

America nods. "What reason would I have to go around killing random nations?"

Germany shrugs. "Well, I don't know, but it seems you have one witness." As Germany said this, he points his finger in my direction. "He told me everything."

America averts his gaze over to me, smirking once he saw the fear in my eyes. "Huh? England, what lies are you spouting this time?" He smiles. "I remember when I was younger-you always ranted on and on about how lies are horrible things and that the truth should always be told." America pauses. "...and look who is telling lies this time-the same one who told me!"

I wince. "What the hell is your problem?" I ask him. "Stop playing your games. You're cornered so stop trying to pretend that you did absolutely nothing."

America smiles. "Does everyone really believe that I killed all of them?" He asks everyone in the room. No one dared answer. America grimaced, and he barked louder, "Does EVERYONE REALLY BELIEVE THAT I KILLED ALL OF THEM?" his voice echoed throughout the room, intimidating everyone. No one still dared to answer, anyhow. America chuckled, now knowing his answer. "What, no one can depend on the great ole' US of A anymore? What about all of that liberty and peace shit that everyone always looked upon? You all can't trust me?"

One of the enforcements attempted to grab America from behind, but he moved to the side with grace. "Ah, ah. You all can't just assume that I was the one who killed them. There is no proof."

I stand up. "Well, I'll go ahead and admit my own part—I hid the bodies that he killed. I don't care if I get in trouble for being an ally in a serious murder case but I'm just trying to give proof that I helped. I can even show you where all the bodies are, if needed."

Gasps filled the room. No one even knew what to think anymore. However, America just giggles. "Isn't that cute?"

I groan. "Seriously? You're still going to go with this charade?"

America shrugs. "That's not valid proof. It's proof that you aided the murderer but it isn't valid proof to show that I was indeed the one did it."

And at this moment, the power goes out. I grimace at the sudden cliched moment, but instead of worrying about that, I try to adjust my sight to the darkness. Where did that bastard go?

The power comes back on but America is no where in sight.

Knowing that he could be anywhere, I burst out of the room in a frenzy, chasing blindly after the madman that I once knew as America.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: Meh. There's just about three or maybe less chapters until the conclusion of the story. However, let me know what you all think and if I should change anything. <strong>

**Thanks~**


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: Do not own!**

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><p><strong>Present Time...<strong>

And this is how I found myself in this predicament. As I finally drift back into consciousness, I find myself in an unknown room. There's a fire burning in the fire pit, the heat radiating sweet warmth to my body. There is a stone mantle above the fireplace—and above that fireplace are pictures created by famous artists. To my right is a big queen sized bed that could hold just about six or more people if they all squished against each other. To my left is a door that leads to another room. In that other room, the sound of water patters against a hard surface. The sound of a distinct voice humming a particular tune can be heard.

_"...Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there...__"_

I try and get up from my seat, but I am bound to it by a rope. I grunt and jerk my right side forward, but the rope is tied very tightly. I try and use my trapped hands to untie the knot that is around my wrists, but I can't. I groan and sit back in the chair, thinking of what I can do to get myself out of here.

"_Oh, say does that star-spangled banner yet wave..."_

The pattering of the water stops. I feel very alerted and something doesn't feel right. I jerk my body forward again—only to tip the chair forwards and make myself fall face first onto the hard wood floor.

"Fuck!" I hiss, staring into the wood-ness of the floor that is now shoved into my face. My face throbs with pain and my nose doesn't feel particularly right—I might have broken it from the force of the fall and the contact of the floor with my face.

_"O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave?"_

The door to the room with the water burst open. My eyes dart to the side of the room—only to see a pair of bare legs walking towards me. I look up, wincing with pain as He stands before me, drying his hair with a towel. He chuckles. "It seems someone has gotten himself into quite position, hasn't he?"

I grimace. It was quite a sight to see, I'm sure. My ass is half way in the air because my legs are tied to the chair as well. So, it is quite a promising position...

"You could have just waited. I was practically done when you tipped yourself over. Patience, my dear friend—patience." He throws his towel somewhere in the room. I hear the patting sound of feet walking across the floor. He walks to the front of me and puts his foot under my chin. I grimace—the repulsive appendage being thrust into my face unexpectedly. "Do you want to be picked up?" He asks—almost sounding like he cared. I whimper as I try to talk, but his foot stops me from doing so. America giggles. "Sounds like a yes. Here..." He picks my chair up and I go along with it. Now I'm staring into His face. He's grinning like a madman—No—He _is _a madman.

"Why?" I ask.

"Why what?"

"Why are you doing this?"

He chuckles. "I've told you many times. You know the answer."

I groan as the room starts to spin again. It still feels like whatever he made me ingest is still in my system. "What did you make me swallow?"

"Well, an assortment of things..." He wanders off in his thoughts. I'm screwed—there's nothing I can do.

America sits down on his bed. The room is filled with silence—horrible silence. There has to be _some _sound—just something! Anything!

After a while, America smiles. "There something wrong?"

I glare at him. "What in bloody hell do you think?" I pause. "I'm bounded in a chair, in a madman's house. Would you think I'm OK about this?"

America nods. "I suppose. You realize you're stuck here until the others can find out where we are, right?"

A nervous feeling arises in the pit of my stomach. I suddenly feel like I want to get sick. "I know." I barely whisper.

America gets up from the bed and crouches down in front of me. He places a hand on the side of my cheek and gently rubs it. I frown, looking into his dark blue eyes. They remind me of the ocean.

"I've screwed up big time." He starts, sighing. "So much has been done that it is too late to go back—and for that, I am sorry. I've caused pain and hurt and so much anguish that should have never been committed in the first place. I brought you into all of this without thinking what you wanted." He pauses, thinking for a minute. "I was scared. I probably should have stopped right after China. But I guess I just wanted more of that 'fun' feeling that I get whenever the adrenaline starts to kick in. And now look where we are. I'm a fucking _country _for God's sake. I could at least learn to be like one and keep the almighty peace that I had promised in the first place. America is known as a great place—and now I disgraced it with my stupid actions."

I can feel tears start to pool in my eyes. "America," I sigh under my breath. America shakes his head and wipes away the stray tears that had accidentally fallen.

"Don't cry—" He starts, "You shouldn't feel like this for me. I'm just worthless scum—like all of the other horrible people on this tainted Earth."

I sob. "Don't-"

"I won't kill you," he promises, pulling me into a hug. "I guess I just wanted attention—Boy, I sure got a lot more than I ever wanted." I feel my shoulder grow damp. I give a shaky sigh and sob into America's shoulder.

"You idiot." is all I manage to get out. I sob louder. America chuckles, his whole body shaking against mine.

"I know."

We sit there for a minute in each others' embrace. However, that is cut off by the loud, obnoxious banging of someone at the door.

"Open up!" A thick voice is heard on the other side. I gasp, fearing the worse. I feel like an ass now, but it needed to be done.

America gets up from my shoulder and walks to the door. I watch him closely, a shadow crossing his face as he did so. He slowly unlocked the door and turned the knob. He opens it—staring into the faces of the enforcements and Germany.

"You're under arrest." One of the lead enforcers stated. He turned America around and handcuffed him. Meanwhile, Germany made his way to me and untied me from the chair. He pulls me up, holding me as I stagger back and forth.

"What's wrong?" He asks. "Did he drug you?"

"Yes, I did." America says on the other side of the room. Germany groans.

"We've got to get his stomach pumped." Germany continues. "How much did you give him?"

"...A large overdose. It's amazing he's still alive." He pauses. "He was originally going to be my next victim, but I changed my mind."

The room is spinning. Everything seems so unreal and fake. Germany is barking orders to the others as he carries me to the police car. The sirens start to wail as we are driving down the road.

I pass out before I get to the hospital.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: W00T! School is over now~<strong>

**I loved writing this chapter~ But, alas, this story is near the end! I'm not sure how many chapters, but I will let you know~ **

**Reviews are greatly appreciated~ Thanks for reading~**


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia!**

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><p>My vision blurs as I finally wake up from the clutches of unconsciousness. I turn my head to the left and then to the right. There's white everywhere. A machine beeps to the side of me. This room reeks of medicine and sanitary equipment. My head feels fuzzy as I try to recount the events that had happened that led me to this unknown place. I have a good idea of what this place is, but it seems all too unreal. Like I'm in a dream or a nightmare, or something along those lines.<p>

My attention is now on a door that is slowly opening. It was a doctor in a very white coat. His hair was slicked back and he wore glasses. There was a comforting air about him. He gives me an innocent smile as he takes a seat next to my bed. "You're awake now. That's great."

I nod slowly, staring at this happy man. "I'm in a hospital, correct?"

He chuckles. "Right you are, England."

I jump. He knows me as a country? I give him a worried look, but he dismisses that away with the wave of his hand. "It's all right—I have been sworn to secrecy. Only I and a couple of other doctors know that you are actually England. The others simply know you as 'Arthur'."

I sigh with relief and smile. "Thank you."

He chuckles. "A man of many words, I see. But it's not a problem." He gets up from his seat. "I'm just going to check out a couple of things to make sure that you're OK now that you had the drugs pumped out of you."

I gasp. That's right. I was severely drugged. "What kind of drugs were in me?"

The doctor frowns as he grabs his sanitary equipment from across the room. "Oh dear. Several dangerous ones that should have killed you in an instant. Ecstasy, Special K, and a just a hint of Rohypnol—Rohypnol is known as the typical 'date-rape drug' or also known as 'Roofies'." He pauses to wash his hands and apply gloves. "I have every reason to believe that he intended to rape and then kill you. All of those drugs are usually associated with sexual assault. You're lucky he made the right choice to change his mind before he could do so."

I get a weird feeling in my stomach. "Really? That's..rather unfortunate—I mean, having all of those drugs in me." I sigh. "Where is He now?"

He looks into my eyes as he brings the cart next to the bed. "I'm not sure. Germany knows, though, so when I'm finished here I'll bring him in."

After the doctor, whose name is apparently Dr. McKenna, checked me and OK'ed me, he let Germany in so I could talk to him.

"So, what did the doctor say?" He asked once he sat down.

I shake my head. "Nothing much. He said I'm doing fine but I have to stay here and recuperate considering the situation." I wince as I situate myself on the bed. "My stomach hurts like bloody hell, though."

Germany chuckled nervously. "Well, that is to be expected, ja? We're all glad that you're all right. The doctor told me that we got you in here just on time. If we left you any longer, you would have been dead before we could save you."

I smile. "And I thank you all for that, really. It was kind of surprising to know that I was drugged that badly. I didn't even feel like I was dying, but I did feel like I was under the influence of something."

Germany nodded. "That's what the doctor said. You were completely out of it, but yet you were functioning all right—from America's point of view, anyway."

"What ever happened to him?"

Germany's face sinks. "We had him checked out as well—and he let us—but it turns out that there was something wrong with his brain wave patterns or something along those lines. They think he's literally insane. So chances are, once they find out what's really wrong, they'll send him to an insane asylum."

I gasp. "...Really?"

Germany nodded, a shadow crossing his face. "Unfortunately so. I'm sorry, England."

I sit back against the back of my bed and look straight ahead of me. On the TV, there was a news reporter talking about recent disasters around the Earth. "...'several countries are nonexistent,' says Robert Cunningham, a geographer. 'Any reasons as to how or why this happened is completely a mystery to us. It's literally impossible for countries to disappear like that.'"

The TV goes to an image of England. "Several people from England have gone to visit a doctor because of a 'constant pain' in their stomachs, as well as other symptoms. Doctors have found that there are drugs in their systems—'It is unexplainable why they have these drugs in them,' Dr. Raymond states, 'Most of the patients have stated that they have never taken an illegal drug in their life.' Also," the reporter continues, "many Americans are unstable psychologically—almost a quarter of the American population have been sent to insane asylums and it is predicted that the number will increase a large sum within a month."

Germany groans and shakes his head. "All of this is the result of one's own stupidity."

I look at the stressed German and he continues on, "If America weren't so curious as to what killing felt like, everything would have been fine and not out of hand."

I nod. "That you are right," I agree, sighing. "If only I weren't too pussy to tell someone that America was the murderer the whole time. Everything wouldn't have been so screwed up, then."

Germany chuckles. "I suppose you're right on that one. Not that I'm saying you are a pussy, but several other countries would have been saved and even you wouldn't be in the situation you are in right now."

"...This is completely irrelevant," I start. Germany gives me a questioning look. "but, is it all right if you can take me to visit America when I'm admitted out of the hospital?"

Germany's brows furrowed. "...Why?"

"I don't know," I shrug, "I guess to say my final good bye before he's taken into the insane asylum."

Germany hesitates for a moment, wondering what to say. I give him a pleading look. He sighs once he sees the look and shakes his head. "Damn, you're just like Italy when he wants something—persistent and needy!" he pauses, shaking his head. "Fine. I don't understand why you would want to see him again, but I'll take you. Just be careful, ja?"

I nod. "Be careful? He can't do anything."

"Ja, you are correct." Germany nods. "But he is a tricky bastard."

"I know that." I sigh.

"I've known for a long time."

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><p><strong>Author's Note: Just a chapter or so to go! (At least on my plans, anyhow. That may change shot) **

**Reviews are appreciated~ Thanks for reading!**


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: Hetalia isn't mine!**

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><p>"America?"<p>

The American sighs and turns his head away, "What do you want." It wasn't a question, rather, it was more of a statement. I give a small frown and sit down in the seat in front of him.

"...I have heard of what is going on."

"Have you, now?" He smirks, "Are you here just to laugh at me? Or are you here because you pity me?"

"Neither."

America's body tenses. "Oh." is all he could say.

We sat for a long time in silence—staring into space. Why did I even come here? It wasn't what I had expected, at all.

"I came to say good bye before you leave." I start. America glances at me.

"Seriously? After all that I did to you, and here you are to say 'good bye'?" He snorts, "Sounds a little far-fetched, if you ask me. You should hate my guts by now."

I shake my head. "You're wrong about that, America. I don't hate you."

"But you should, goddammit!" He screams and slams his fist into the table in front of us. I wince as he fumes with anger. "Do you even _understand_?" His voice lowers, "I fucking _drugged _you. I planned to rape you and then _kill _you! How do you _not _hate me?"

"Just because you did all of that and nearly killed me doesn't mean I necessarily have to hate you!" I pause and heave a heavy sigh, "It sounds crazy; I know. What you did to me, and to the others, is unforgivable. I just can't stand to leave you like this filled with hatred. Believe it or not—I still care for you."

America shakes his head. "You're a goddamned idiot, England."

"...You're a goddamned twisted person, America."

"Touche," America retorts, chuckling. "I'm going to miss the days where we could hang out with each other."

I smile. "I will too. Hopefully your mental health will get better and then they could let you out early."

"I don't think my mental health will get better, England. I seriously doubt it. I'm just too fucked up in the head already that I'm sure it's too late for it to 'revert' or 'get better'."

"But one could hope, no?"

America shrugged. "I dunno. I guess it all depends on the treatment. If I get better, so be it. If I don't, then whatever. It is what it is."

I felt dumbfounded by that statement. What about it that made me feel that way? Was it because of the sheer simplicity? Or was it because it seemed like he didn't care either way?

As I am left here pondering what America said, America groans.

"It's too bad, huh?"

"What?"

America grimaced. "All of those countries I killed. Not to mention that my country is now in shambles and probably has no sign of recovery in the slightest bit." America shrugged. "Why is it that I don't seem as worried about it as I should? It's like all of the burdens that were weighed on my shoulder is just gone, now. Once the police took me away, I felt as if I have nothing else to worry about anymore."

I felt my heart crumble. "Why do you think like that, America?"

"Hell if I know," he snorts, "I honestly hope that I'm in that hospital for the rest of my life. I mean, it'll be a while before I die, but all the more reason to hope that I'm never cured. If anything, I can just kill myself if I'm really not in the mood to lead my nation."

"You do realize that the whole country of America will disappear, right?" I feel worried about his statements, definitely. If this goes on, I might even bring it up to the mental hospital that he has intentions of suicide. I don't care what America wants—I just want him to be safe.

With my last statement, I get up from my seat. He peaks at me from under his eyes.

"That's all?" He asks. "You're not going to stay here longer?"

I furrow my brows. "Do you want me to?"

"Whatever you wish."

I push my chair in and look back at him. "I have some business to take care of, anyway, so I'll have to skip out on the long talk today. Maybe some other time when I get everything taken care of, all right?"

America almost looked like he was ready to cry. Whether he really was or not, I'm not sure, but I almost felt obligated to stay. I smile.

"Do you know when the hospital allows visitors, yet? Or have they not talked to you?"

America sighs. "I'll try and give you a call when I find out."

"All right. See you soon."

"Yup."

And with that, I left.

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><p>"<em>The country of America is still in shambles. With nearly every citizen reported as 'going insane', it is a wonder if America will ever be able to recover. If so, let's just hope for the best. In other news..."<em>

I sit back in my seat and sip my tea. Germany takes a quick look in my direction and sighs.

"You don't seem as stressed as you were a couple of weeks ago. What happened?"

I gave a reassuring smile. "Oh, I still stress greatly. But I finally had a talk with America yesterday."

"Oh?" Germany grimaced. "How did it go?"

"Not as bad as I thought it would, though I'm really worried about him the most."

"That's to be expected." Germany chuckled, "It seemed like you always were worried about him over the years. Especially during the time when he was free—you still did all those things for his sake when you knew it wasn't right."

"Don't remind me," I groan, "I apologized I don't know how many times. I just surprised that they didn't do anything to me, like give me prison time or something."

Germany shrugged. "I don't know what goes on anymore, so don't ask me." He pauses. "Are you glad that he's in a mental hospital?"

"Well...yes and no. I'm glad that he's being treated because it gives him a chance at a brighter future. No because there can be no guarantee that he'll be better and the fact that he'll be all alone over there worries me a bit. He likes to have someone to talk to, and usually he resorts to me because I'm the only one who listens and tries to help."

Germany nodded slowly after absorbing what he just heard. "...Sounds like you're at a crossroads."

"Oh, definitely. It's something that I have to think about everyday, too. But I won't go too much into detail about it anymore. It's nothing that really needs to be spoken about, anyway."

Germany smiled. "I agree. Let's not get sad over such a subject, ja?"

I chuckled. "All right."

I get up from my seat and walk down the hall of the Meeting building. As I made my way to a meeting, I thought about all that had happened. It didn't seem like such a short time that all this had happened, but it happened all within the span of a week. Where was my head when this happened? Of course, it wasn't in the right place because of what I brought myself into, but I'll live. I may be traumatized for the rest of my life, but there's no use fretting over it now. Some of my friends may be gone, but I'll deal with it. I know that I shouldn't be too carefree about this, but I just feel like everything was completely resolved. While the rest of the world is in complete havoc, I feel like I'm at peace now.

But my pace slows. What if I was in America's place? What if it was I that killed all of those innocent countries? What if it was me who drugged America and intended to rape him? What if this was all my fault, and yet I don't realize it?

What if I was living in replica world, all in my mind? Where everything is all ponies and butterflies and peaceful in a sense, but here I don't realize my own actions and try to live it perfectly in my head?

I gulp. Where did all that come from? Certainly...that's not how America lives, is it?

Or is it just how I live?

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><p><strong>Author's Note: Oh God, I felt that I killed the ending there. Don't hate me. D:<strong>

**LATE UPDATE IS REAL LATE. DEAR LORD WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME? *shot***

**So I uploaded two chapters in one day, one for another story and one for this one, and I feel pretty achieved. This is finished if you haven't noticed, so lemme know what you think about this ending o n o**

**I hope you all enjoyed, those who read! **

**Thanks for sticking with me throughout this. (Ihaven'tupdatedthisinamonthohgoodne sswhatishappening?)**

**Thanks!**


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